


Love in a Whisper

by Battythebat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Light Swearing, Love Letters, Pining, Prompt Fill, Self-Reflection, mention of Dorian Sera and Cassandra, stupid feelings and self-doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:43:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6909757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Battythebat/pseuds/Battythebat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt fill from tumblr post The way you said "I love you". @slothquisitor asked #25, in a blissful sigh as you fall asleep.<br/>Canon verse. Kaeran x Cullen</p><p>This is a follow up to Love in the Stitches, although it can be read as a stand-alone. </p><p>Kaeran has trouble putting words to feelings and the fact that she's unable to say "I love you" back is troubling her. She tries not to lose her head while out in the field.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love in a Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't read Love in the Stitches? If you wish, you can find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6748258)

She didn’t say “I love you” back and it hurt.

She worried that if she said the words that it would ruin the moment because it wouldn’t be genuine. And then there was the question of whether she was in love with him. Falling into the feeling seemed so easy and now Kaeran’s mind was full of doubts, second-guessing her actions and words, even those she wrote down.

Without him she wouldn’t have learned to write and corresponding with Cullen while she was away felt like a lifeline; now she wasn’t so certain that what she expressed on paper was real. Some part had to be real though, right?

After Cullen’s confession, they spent the rest of the day holed up in her quarters and Kaeran conceded to Cullen’s request for having some of his work delivered there; she had to admit that at least this way she could keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t tire himself out. After summoning a runner, she mentioned that the more urgent reports could be rerouted to Seeker Pentaghast. Cassandra would understand and Kaeran made a mental note to make it up to the Seeker.

Kaeran wasn’t due to leave Skyhold for a few more days, so she took advantage of the time granted to her and spent as much as she could by Cullen’s side. After spending two days together in her large quarters, Josephine dragged a mopey Kaeran away from her haven to indulge a few visiting nobles.

“But Josie,” Kaeran moaned, “what if the Commander is in need of my help and I’m not there? What if I die from boredom? Who will seal the remaining rifts then?”

“I can assure you, Inquisitor, that your dear Commander will survive your absence.”

“Actually, Ms. Montilyet, what if the nobles have our beloved leader for too long and I die from a broken heart?”

From the chaise, Cullen stared towards the stained glass windows; letting out sigh, his eyes going wistful—a true vision of pining.

Kaeran could have sworn she saw a similar dramatic pose from one of Cassandra’s books. As though reading her thoughts, Cullen’s eyes darted towards hers and his cheeks flushed. He honestly tried not to laugh but the look Josephine gave him made him suddenly fearful of his life. Right, Josephine used to be a bard.

And he thought Leliana and Cassandra were the most intimidating.

Not wanting to delay any further, Josephine gently nudged Kaeran along to meet the nobles. She had allowed some privacy for the sake of the Inquisitor and Commander but if she had to delay for another day, she might’ve been at her wits’ end.

Unfortunately, the days that followed went by too soon and Kaeran had to venture out of Skyhold again. It was difficult to know how long she’d be away; missions always tended to be more complicated and that didn’t include the chaotic miscellaneous that came their way. At least when she left, Cullen had made a full recovery. Praise Mythal for that, at least.

Kaeran winds up in the Storm Coast of all places and she almost regrets having Dorian with her; her mage companion despises the wind chill and freezing rain that pelts them sideways and though Kaeran sympathizes, misery loves company.

There is something undeniably refreshing about the area, most likely the heavy tang of salt from the sea, an intriguing sensation for her since her clan rarely ventured near a body of water larger than a lake. The cool rain is also a pleasing sensation, so different from the warmer rainfalls of the Free Marches that she’s accustomed to. Although she has to admit, the combination of rain with rocky terrain is anything but pleasant. Already not the most graceful person, she’s had her share of tripping and stumbling into sharp rocks.

Honestly, fuck those slippery razor sharp rocks.

Especially those that were hewn into terrifyingly steep steps and the only means into the many caves in the area.

Right, because climbing the giant steps near the edge of a cliff in the middle of a near-constant rainstorm sounded like a great time for Kaeran and her team. She could trust Cassandra to keep most of her disapproval to herself. Kaeran was more concerned with Dorian and Sera. Creators, they were such children at times. She’d never tell that to Sera though, who knew what that mischievous rogue would plot out of spite. If Sera could stuff bees into a training dummy, anything was possible.

After toeing around the worrisome battle between a giant and a high dragon (Iron Bull won’t be happy when he finds out that he not only missed such a sight but the fact that Kaeran and her team didn’t deign to get involved), they established another campsite and called it a day. Tomorrow Kaeran would meet with the Blades of Hessarian; she was loath to make deals with fanatics, especially those who harmed innocent lives. Seeing the butchery of the missing scouts made her blood boil—they joined the Inquisition to protect and better their own lives, how could the Inquisitor and her inner circle fail to protect them in return? Were they even making a difference?

 _Stop that, how is this constructive?_

As much as she didn’t want to, Kaeran had to give the Blades a chance to explain their actions. Her body still trembled with silent rage, her stomach knotted with anxiety. What if something went wrong tomorrow and it cost more lives? Wouldn’t it be better to repay blood with blood?

 _Then how is that any better? You_ have _to be better than that, otherwise what’s the difference?_

As she lay on her back frowning at the canvas above her head, she heard someone approach the tent flap and clear their throat.

“Letters, your Worship,” the scout’s voice shook, whether from fear of disturbing her or from the biting cold of the downpour, Kaeran wasn’t sure. It was probably both. Sighing, she rose slowly, curling forward and crawled to the front of the tent and unceremoniously stuck her hand out. She bit back a laugh, imagining the scout’s startled reaction.

_Alright, don’t be such an asshole, even though they’re all idiots for thinking you’re Andraste’s chosen._

Popping her head in between the tent’s fastenings, Kaeran flashed a sheepish smile before plucking the package and thanking the scout. The scout happily nodded and briskly walked away in search of shelter. Although the rain lessened, it would be foolish to delay seeking cover for herself and the important missives. Kaeran crawled back into the tent (double-checking that the fastenings were secure) and burrowed back into her bedroll, readjusting the fur blankets to her liking before throwing herself into more work. The only danger with missives was getting paper cuts, a small risk really. Kaeran was hoping that one of them would contain additional information about the Blades of Hessarian. Maybe Leliana uncovered something more sinister about the group that would seal their fates and shorten their lifespan.

Kaeran shook the thought. She shouldn’t let her personal feelings cloud her judgment. She represented an organization and even if some of their goals were quite lofty, she knew that they were capable of doing much good in a world that was steeped in chaos. And yet, there was so much to be done, it was overwhelming. Kaeran considered how fortunate she was to have such qualified and passionate individuals as advisors. It was incredible how each one performed their duties with such diligence and dedication.

Her eyes glazed over the reports; most were updates on Skyhold’s renovations, the conditions of settlements they passed through and provided support (steady supplies with minimal bandits present), the number of recruits (between the lines she spied Cullen’s slight impatience on the slow progress) and Varric’s latest short story. She flipped to the last page, a smirk on her lips when a small envelope smacked her face, startling her in the process. 

Fortunately, Kaeran didn’t sustain a paper cut but Creators that was close. She set aside Varric’s story, now far too intrigued by the unexpected correspondence. Someone clearly snuck this into the batch and being unmarked except with the wax seal that bore the print of…was that an Andrastian coin? Noting that the seal was partially disturbed on one side—no doubt from the person who sealed the envelope and tried to extricate the coin from the cool wax—Kaeran shook her head in amusement. Such a coin was common and it was smart, really, except now she imagined a flustered commander trying to delicately peel the coin and swearing under his breath all for the effort of anonymity.

Kaeran broke the seal, trying as much as possible to not ruin the image of the burning prophet. She began to read the letter but faltered at the first line, swallowing hard before continuing. Her heart and spirits lifted when she read about Cullen’s improved health and how he started overseeing the drills in the practice yard to the point where he even sparred with a few of the recruits. The sentence that followed was a lengthy explanation on why he thought it would be beneficial to not only boost morale but also push the greener recruits to train harder while giving him a break from his drafty tower. Then, almost as though Cullen realized he was deviating from the point of his letter, he changed subject entirely (there were a few drops of ink—evidence of the pen hovering over the page for too long).

Cullen confesses to missing her and replaying that day in his office when she pulled rank on him, effectively dismissing him of his duties and overlooking his recovery. And when the nights are long, he finds himself staring at the doors expecting her to berate him and drag him to bed. At this point there are half formed words that are crossed out and Kaeran imagines the grimace on his face and how Cullen must've been mortified that the words on the page suggested more than he intended. It must’ve been late enough that he was beyond caring anymore, or perhaps it was a combination of exhaustion and sheer stubbornness to keep writing than start a new letter, Kaeran couldn’t tell. The letter then makes reference to trebuchets and the need for more lumber. 

And honestly, wasn’t this supposed to be a sweet letter for her but somehow became a requisition? Definitely exhaustion.

 _Great, now I need to keep an eye out for more logging stands, that should be a breeze._ The last time she went looking for them was in bear country.

At least Cullen had the decency to close the letter with an apology for including Inquisition business in a personal letter. Her heart thudded at the words carefully scratched in elvhen.

 _Ir abelas, ma’ vhenan’ara_ (I’m sorry, my heart’s desire)

She stared at the words, feeling completely disarmed since Cullen took the time to include those damning words. Kaeran was spared from reading “I love you” but even with the omission of the word love it was clear throughout the letter how much he did in fact love her. The last line confirmed how much he cared for her, that he took the extra step and included those words in her people’s tongue to show his devotion to her.

Somehow, being called his heart’s desire felt wrong, as though he was ready to lay down his life at her feet. Kaeran shuddered at the thought; Cullen would lay down his life for her without hesitation and that kind of blind obedience was dangerous.

Still, wasn’t he her own heart’s desire? Wouldn’t she do a similar sacrifice for his sake? The thought should give her pause; instead Kaeran finds the finality of it all surprisingly soothing.

She would have to write a response in the morning when she didn’t have fatigue creeping on her, making her eyes droop before closing. Kaeran stirred a few times, trying to shake off the exhaustion but the warmth from her blankets and the lulling sound of the rain made the fight difficult.

When she came to, Cullen’s letter was slightly crumpled against her chest and her whole left side felt numb from lying in the same position for so long. Did she oversleep? Kaeran doubted that since the world outside her tent was quiet that even the rainfall diminished to a hush of drizzle. The day promised to be a cold one.

Getting up, she stretched her sore limbs, sorted her correspondence and went about her morning routine. After successfully scrounging up a light snack from her pack, Kaeran settled down sitting cross-legged with quill, ink and paper. She didn’t have a portable writing board like Josephine so she made do with a book ( _Adventures of the Black Fox_ —her latest obsession).

Unsure on how to start, Kaeran pulled out Cullen’s letter to reread it. The first line once again gave her pause, her eyes softening at the words _my darling Kaeran_ before skimming through the remaining contents of the letter, arranging her own thoughts as she went.

Just as she was about to make a flourish with the commander’s name, Sera popped her head into the tent and yelled a crude morning wake up call. Startled, Kaeran huffed before putting the sheaf of paper away and folding Cullen’s letter before tucking it in her shirt. Always one to keep her hands busy, Kaeran modified her clothes and all her shirts contained a secret pocket liner. Sera oo’d and aahh’d, pestering her until she successfully dragged her friend outside for breakfast.

The writing would have to wait until after breakfast and the damned Blades of Hessarian were dealt with.

\--*--

An hour has gone by since she narrowly dodged to the side and avoided the dagger that whizzed past her face (her face had enough scars, thank you very much). Within that hour she took out the power hungry leader of the Blades of Hessarian and negotiated an agreement with its surviving members. Though she wouldn’t have minded rolling a few more heads, she knew that these men and women were following orders and of the consequences had they not obeyed their mad leader.

It didn’t sit completely right for her, her thoughts going back to the butchered Inquisition scouts, but she hoped that their souls would rest now.

Upon their return to camp, she announced that they would return to Skyhold the next day and retreated to her tent. Dorian and Sera were relieved to soon be out of the rain. Cassandra understood but stayed close by. Kaeran wondered if Cassandra did this of her own volition or if Cullen had words with the Seeker before departure and requested that she keep a close eye on the Inquisitor. She was honestly expecting the Seeker to argue with her about leaving the Storm Coast when there was still much to do in the area.

She definitely wasn’t going to stick around and tempt a dragon into a fight.

The exhaustion of the battle caught up to her but she stubbornly kept packing her belongings; if she wasn’t going to do it now, there was no way that it would be done later on. And she really didn’t want to delay their departure in the morning. Dorian would be tempted to do something absolutely nefarious if that were the case.

By the time she was done packing (and had eaten supper), Kaeran was more than ready to fall asleep. She wriggled her way into the bedroll and absently pulled out Cullen’s letter that was tucked into her shirt. She reread his words, her lips moving quietly while her fingers skimmed the letter line by line. She paid extra reverence to the final line in elvhen and mumbled the term of endearment to herself. She kept repeating it over and over again, willing the words and growing sentiment to escape her lips and make their way to her beloved.

It wasn’t an I love you, but it was a start. It meant much more in her people’s tongue and her heart eased, no longer burdened with doubt. Cullen understood her more than she estimated and it seemed that he knew her better than herself.

Kaeran closed her eyes, imagining those eyes that blazed like brown amber, hardened around the edges but still full of life. They looked back at her, full of hope and mirth.

Her heart’s desire were the last words she murmured to herself before falling into a deep slumber.

 

 

 

 


End file.
